Charithra Chandran said you have to be a d*ckhead to believe you'll be famous.
Some dream dopamine in your inbox this AM.
This dispatch was written this past weekend in Paris, where it rained for three days and shined for two. The trip was meant to be one for shopping / boys, but turned into one for writing and reflection, both of which I needed more than dick and Jil Sander. Well, maybe not Jil. These mules not being avail in my size—c’est tragique!
I recently attended a Black creator brunch hosted by BOND Official that I expected to be fun, but not nearly as inspiring as it was, both indirectly—simply by being surrounded by impeccably dressed, smart, kind, generous Black men in the creator economy—and directly, by their words of affirmation. Of the words shared, the most impactful came from co-host Ryan Clark who said, “we need to talk our shit more.” Celebrating my wins—the seemingly insignificant ones and the life changing ones—has never been easy for me. I’ve shared in the past details on my insular religious upbringing. My former faith encouraged extreme humility, even to the point of being hard on oneself; “pummeling one’s body like a slave,” as their interpretation of scripture suggested.
In recently beginning more structured and intentional Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, I’ve been making connections between my former faith (which I’ve spent more years of my life believing than not) and current issues of low self-esteem, timidness and debilitating impostor syndrome. Just last week a friend told me over shared plates that, outwardly, I don’t seem to be victim to those feelings, which is encouraging, but doesn’t make it any less real.
Back at the BOND brunch, a good friend, Mac, talked my shit for me. And hearing him speak on some of my wins from the past year, I realized I want to be able to speak as confidently and surely about myself as my peers and friends do. I’ve told many of my friends who are pursuing something outside their nine-to-five—often some lofty, lovely creative ambition—it takes more certainty than anything to the ✨thing✨ you’re trying to. But am I certain?
It’s very easy to forget that you might be living (or are on the road to living) the very life you dreamed for yourself as a child, especially if you live in New York. This city, with its nonstop offering of plans, people and experiences, doesn’t encourage moments of pause to reflect. But if we don’t, we’re missing out on acknowledging our progress, which is a huge miss. The pride and joy that comes with that acknowledgment is what feeds more progress. Nectar for next steps.
After winning her first Grammy for Kiss Me More this year, Doja Cat, near tears, said “I like to downplay shit, but this is a big deal,” a sentiment many can appreciate. Why are we so quick to push ourselves, and slow to celebrate ourselves? Humility is generally one of my favorite qualities in people, but I’m learning the periodic presence of pride does not make a person any less humble. In fact, an inability to display pride (or, if you’re like me, inability to accept a compliment) is likely something that should raise alarm, not praise. It should not take winning a Grammy (or another comparable or even lesser moment) to celebrate yourself—there a million steps worth celebrating prior on the road to golden hardware.
As an evolution of my former mantra—it takes more certainty—I’m going to begin taking Bridgerton star Charithra Chandran’s words to heart. She recently told Bustle, “You have to be a bit of a dickhead to believe you’re going to be famous.” Not that fame is the end-all-be-all or even of interest to many of us, but so many of our dreams are seemingly irrational that they can beg the question: why me? The answer: why not you?; or if you’re a dickhead you might respond, because I’m me. We (and I’m talking to myself here) need to begin believing in our talents and knowing our ambitions are valid; that the pursuit of those ambitions is worthwhile.
When I started creating videos on TikTok (then posting with intention on Instagram, then publishing this Substack) in late-2020, I wanted to grow to a point where, eventually, I could support myself off sharing my perspective on some of the things I care about—internet culture, fashion, the curious appeal Jack Harlow, modern day it girls and a million other non-essentials. I published a piece expressing that goal in October 2020. Today, that goal feels more tangible than ever. For the first time (and this is me practicing talking my shit; i am cringing and SORRY), I’m getting paid by brands and media for my perspective. I’ve developed a personal brand people f*ck with enough to follow cross-platform and that is incredibly exciting—I feel very close to living the life and having the career I want. What’s most exciting (and promising!) though, is crossing 500 subscribers on the ol’ Substack. It means a great deal to me that people care enough to read what I write: thank you for being here ❤️
That was a hard paragraph to write, but it’s important that we acknowledge our progress. There’s no shame in being proud of yourself, I’m learning. But enough about me. What are the unspoken wins in your world? Comment below, or shoot me a DM on Instagram—I want to share some on your wins, plug your work + manifest continued growth!
BIG X BIG O—
Cashmere
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This was so beautifully written, it really resonated with me. Thank you for your words!
Congratulations. I love your writing and it's great to hear you feel like you're at this point you've been working towards.